Right in This Moment: The Outing of Emily Prentiss
by AliceBB
Summary: Women are being murdered in DC and solving the crimes will cause Prentiss to rethink everything she has taken for granted up until now.
1. Part I

This is a really difficult genre to write in. I know nothing about the FBI or the criminal psychology they get into on CM. I really like the Emily / JJ pairing although I have to stretch to see them together what with the things the show has got JJ into. Yuck. There are a lot of things I had to either make up or elaborate on to make a functional story since they give us so little details about the characters lives outside of work. Most of the computer stuff is mine as big organizations and secure systems are basically what I work on all day. The hacking is all Garcia though, of course. ;-) I think how I portrayed Prentiss will be bit different for most readers. I see her as being a kind of 'dark' character and that makes her a lot of fun to write. Back in the day, this portrayal would be Uber Xena. I come from the old school Xena fandom and I have not written anything for more than 10 years. Over the past couple of months CM and Prentiss and JJ (especially Prentiss) just kind of became all I could think about.

Alice ................................

Disclaimer: The characters in the following fanfiction are not mine (except for a couple incidental 'guest stars') and are used without permission. No profit is derived from this story.

**_Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us. Marianne Williamson_**

**Right in This Moment: The Outing of Emily Prentiss**

**Chapter 1: Girls Night In**

**Present Day, Early Evening**

"Are you going to eat that last bit of Tikka Masala?" Garcia pointed her fork at the takeout container.

"It's all yours," Prentiss answered absently. JJ stretched across the table and passed the food to Garcia.

"Thanks, JJ." Prentiss gingerly eased back in her chair grimacing briefly.

"Are you all right?" JJ asked with concern.

"Yeah…" Prentiss drew out the word. "I just need another pain pill."

"Why don't you go settle on the couch," JJ stood and walked around behind Prentiss' chair letting her hand rest lightly on her shoulder, "Garcia and I will clean up."

Prentiss briefly squeezed the hand on her shoulder with her own. "Sure." She stood slowly and moved with equally slow determination to the living room where she reached for the prescription pill bottle on the side table. JJ watched as she swallowed a pill with a drink of water.

"You done, Garcia?"

The change in tone made the technical analyst almost jump. "Yeah, yeah," Garcia drained the last of her wine before getting up to help JJ clear the plates and takeout containers from the table.

JJ pushed the lids onto the leftover rice and Vindaloo lamb. "You don't find this stuff too spicy?"

"God, no," Garcia answered. "They know me at the Tandoori Temple. When they see me coming they go in the back to get another case of chili pepper."

JJ laughed as she stacked the containers in the fridge. Garcia loaded the dishwasher. All that was left on the counter was their two empty wine glasses. Garcia looked at them forlornly. "Damn!" she swore, "and I was so looking forward to getting plastered and playing Twister with you guys!"

"Not nice!" was the response from the couch. "I can't drink and I'm defiantly in no condition to play Twister."

JJ rinsed out the large wine bottle and dropped it in the recycling. "Can we open a bottle of yours, Em?"

"Oh, let me! Let me!" Garcia bounced over to the wine cooler.

Prentiss gave a belated response of "Mi casa, es tu casa" as Garcia rummaged through the bottles.

"Oooooo … this sounds yummy! It's from New Zealand," she handed the bottle to JJ to uncork. "It's called 'Cloudy Bay'", she pointed out. "Sounds expensive," she added in a whispered undertone.

Their two glasses full, JJ carried the bottle in an ice bucket to the living room coffee table. Garcia sat on the couch facing them as JJ settled beside Prentiss.

Garcia took a sip. "Ummm," she commented, "hints of pear and licorice. Don't you think, JJ?"

JJ swirled the wine in her glass and sniffed. "I'm thinking more fresh nettles and gooseberry," she took a sip.

Prentiss looked at the woman sitting beside her. One corner of her mouth crooked in that odd expression of hers that could mean she had just looked at a particularly graphic crime scene photo, or perhaps stepped in something stinky.

"I don't think so…" she extended her left hand – the one not connected to the arm in the sling – and took the wine glass from JJ. "More like cat's pee on a forsythia bush," she stated blandly after sniffing the wine and sipping it.

Garcia snorted. "I suppose you learned your wine tasting skills on a trip to the Napa Valley?"

"The south of France, actually."

"Snob!" Garcia teased.

"I do believe it's time for presents," JJ interjected. Garcia reached behind the couch and brought out a large gift bag. She placed it between JJ and Prentiss.

"Penelope and I thought you could use a few things to help you get better," JJ stated.

Prentiss gamely reached into the bag and pulled out the tissue paper and the first item. "A Chia Pet?" the corner of her mouth crooked again.

"It's a cat," Garcia qualified. "You know, so you can have a pet – someone to come home to. Even if it's …"

"Made of grass and clay?!" Prentiss completed with a laugh.

"And, your point is?" Garcia feigned indignation.

Prentiss reached into the bag again this time pulling out a DVD set. "Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles," she read.

"I heard you talking about it to Reid a couple times," JJ explained.

"And Lena Headley's in it," Garcia chipped in. "I know you Googled her a few times.

Prentiss stuck her tongue out at the computer geek. "Read my email too?"

Garcia ignored that. "The show totally rocks."

"And so does Lena Headley," JJ said softly as if to herself but the other two women still overheard.

"By the way, the DVDs were all Girlfriend Number One not me," Garcia gestured at JJ. "I really wanted to get you the 'Lord of the Rings' extended version boxed set."

"I have it," Prentiss waved her hand in the direction of the shelves below the flat screen TV.

"Quelle surprise!" remarked Garcia.

Prentiss reached into the bag for the last gift. She recognized the next DVD and smiled at JJ.

"You remember Buffalo?" asked JJ softly.

"Ummmmm … yeah, JJ," murmured Prentiss glancing sideways at Garcia.

Garcia made herself busy pouring more wine.

"It's that TV show," JJ started, "the one where the girl gets to go back in time and do over the things that she regrets?" JJ ended the sentence with a question, but the look in the dark brown eyes meeting her gaze told JJ that particular night, at the particular hotel in Buffalo, was anything but forgotten.

"Oh, do tell!" Garcia was looking from JJ to Prentiss with her best evil smirk.

Prentiss held JJ's gaze a moment longer before looking away knowing full well what her look could do to the younger blonde.

"What would you do – what in your life would you change – if you could go back and do it again?" Garcia asked all serious. She leaned forward and watched her two friends and co-workers closely. "Nothing earth shattering that changes the Space Time Continuum. I really don't want to wake up in the morning and find myself in another dimension."

"You mean like you did Saturday night?" Prentiss teased.

Garcia almost tossed a throw pillow at the FBI special agent, stopping herself at the last second. Prentiss stuck out her tongue again.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You wish!"

"Girls!" with a flick of her wrist, JJ launched a pillow at Garcia, "stop being silly."

"Yes, ma'am," Garcia tossed off a snappy salute at JJ and looked over her glasses at Prentiss. "Even though a threesome with you two would be, like, totally awesome…" she started then tuned her gaze to JJ who was gaping at her. "I want to hear your greatest regret; at least as long as it applies to girls and kissing."

"What the…" JJ looked from Prentiss to Garcia. "How did we ever get onto this?"

"You started it," Prentiss deftly flipped the DVD case at JJ.

"Sweetie, you can find anything on YouTube if you look hard enough." Garcia sat back looking satisfied with herself. JJ nibbled her knuckle and looked uncomfortable. "I was curious why you wanted that DVD so I did some searching and, long story short…" Garcia paused for dramatic effect. "I want to know your 'almost kissed a girl' regret and what you would do differently if you could do it again."

"What makes you think I…"

"You're breathing aren't you?" When JJ didn't answer, Garcia looked at Prentiss.

"She is."

"Garcia, I do believe yer drunk!"

"So?" Garcia poured the last of the wine into JJ's glass. "Em, honey bunches of hotness, got anything stronger; tequila or something?"

JJ buried her face in her hands.

"Help yourself."

"God," JJ sighed, "I've created a monster."

When Garcia returned to the living area she was carrying a bottle of Amaretto and two glasses. She added a few ice cubes from the bucket and poured herself a shot.

"JJ?"

"What the fuck…" the blonde downed the last of her wine and took the proffered glass. "But…" she swirled the dark liquid in the glass and took a sip. "You first, Pen."

"Oh, my God! Sugarplum! We'll be here all night if I have to tell those stories."

Prentiss gave a sharp snort and clutched her side. "Shit! Garcia! Don't make me laugh so hard!"

"Sorry, sorry," Garcia started to rise to go to her, but a soft voice stopped her.

"In my first year of college…" JJ smoothed her hair behind her ear then gripped the cool glass in both hands. "There was this girl on my floor in residence. She was like you, all into computers and what not. She was fixing my laptop one time… I was leaning over her shoulder. She was really cute. She had dark hair and wore these chunky, black glasses…"

"Oh. My. God! JJ! You never told me you went to school with Rachel Maddow!"

"Garcia!" JJ looked but couldn't find another pillow to throw. Prentiss was looking down, her fist under her nose, as if to suppress a sneeze.

"So, when did you kiss a girl?" Garcia asked, suddenly sly and sober. "For real?"

JJ placed her glass on the coffee table with a sharp 'clink'. She stared at it for a long moment running her hand through her hair. When she looked up it was at the dark haired woman not at the blonde geek.

"Em, you scared the shit outta me, you know! All that blood…" JJ's voice trailed off and Prentiss felt her own hand go toward the bandage on her chest. Their eyes met and once again JJ felt herself caught in those dark eyes at once so sensual she could hardly breathe, and now so sympathetic she felt tears start in her eyes.

"Jennifer, I'm sorry," Prentiss carefully shifted on the couch and extended her arm. JJ sighed and gently settled herself in the pocket of warmth against her side. "I'm sorry for everything," Prentiss stroked the soft blonde hair.

"How did you know?" Prentiss fixed Garcia with her intense, dark gaze.

"That something happened between you two in Buffalo?"

"Yeah..."

"Reid. Reid told me."

"What? Reid?" JJ asked surprised.

"Well…" Garcia began. "Not in so many words. He told me he must've gotten the room beside some women who were attending a religious revival 'cause all he heard all night was 'Oh, God, oh, God'."

Prentiss tried to keep from laughing for the sake of her sore ribs. JJ just closed her eyes.

"Then he went on about the statistical communality of the name 'Emily' or some such 'Reid Speak'."

**Chapter 2: Snowed-In In Buffalo**

**3 Years Ago**

Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss snapped her cell phone closed and walked up behind SSA Jennifer Jareau where she stood looking out the concourse windows. She touched the other woman lightly on the small of her back. "Garcia worked her magic. She got us the very last two rooms at the Marriot. Where's Reid?"

JJ gestured to a row of seating where SSA Dr Spencer Reid was digging in his Go-bag. "He's never seen snow like this. I think he's a little freaked out." Reid donned a rumpled cardigan and joined them.

"Two rooms did you say?" He rocked on his heels slightly. "Who's bunking with me?"

Prentiss gave him her best 'you wish' look. "Here's our ride," she picked up her bag and headed out the door toward a police SUV that had just pulled up.

A young officer opened the back hatch. "Are you the FBI?" His tone was slightly amused as he looked over the two women and Reid.

"We are," Prentiss tossed her black leather bag inside. "We are very grateful for the ride. Apparently cabs are really hard to come by right now." She joined the officer in the front seat as JJ and Reid got in the back.

"It's just a little lake effect," the officer grinned. "It's nothing new for Buffalo."

"Statistically speaking," Reid piped in, "Buffalo averages around …"

**Later**

Prentiss pocketed her card key and followed JJ across the lobby. "We'll be in the bar, Reid," she called over her shoulder.

Inside the bar, JJ dropped her bag on the bench seat and sat down where she could see the TV screens. "Fucking Buffalo," she gestured at the two flat panel screens one showing The Weather Channel, the other a hockey game.

Prentiss just ducked her head and ran her hand through her hair. "Can you remind me, the next time we have to fly commercial air for a conference, not to connect through Buffalo?"

Reid joined them just as the waitress arrived to take their drink orders.

"Whiskey Sour," Prentiss stated.

"Gin and tonic," JJ added.

"I'll have a Coke," this from Reid.

"Not feeling adventurous?" the waitress smiled down at him. He squirmed slightly disarmed by her gaze. "Unless you got a snowmobile, you won't be driving anywhere anytime soon."

"Throw a splash of rum in his Coke," Prentiss told the waitress who patted Reid on the shoulder and left their table. "I had a feeling you were about to tell her all about the statistics of snowmobile accidents in the greater northeast."

"Actually, I'm not sure whether more people are killed falling through the ice on lakes or crashing into trees," Reid's brow furrowed in concentration. "Can I borrow your BlackBerry, JJ?"

**Later**

"The fan's not working; leave the door open a crack like I did," Prentiss said to JJ's back as JJ headed into the bathroom for a shower.

Prentiss tossed her towel on a chair and opened the TV cabinet looking for the remote. _Weather and hockey_ she thought surfing through a few channels. Instead she found lists of cancellations scrolling under the local sports highlights.

She pulled on a pair of well worn boxer shorts and a tank top and settled back on a pile of pillows at the head of the king bed. After a few more minutes of flipping she found a show she had never seen before that seemed to have an interesting premise. When the commercials came on she leaned forward to pull the sheet up over her bare legs and caught her breath.

The mirror over the dresser was angled just right to show JJ standing naked in the bathroom through the partially open door. Prentiss blinked, looked away, looked back. JJ was standing in front of the bathroom mirror combing her long, blonde hair.

The TV show started again after the commercials, but Prentiss couldn't take her eyes off her colleague as JJ took the hair dryer from the wall mount and began drying her hair. She spent the next few minutes dividing her attention between the TV and the show in the bathroom.

JJ picked the most opportune moment to exit the bathroom dressed in pajama bottoms and T-shirt. "Is she touching her breast?" she stopped short staring at the TV. "Is that porn? You found porn on the TV?"

Prentiss opened her mouth, closed it, and grimaced. "No, not porn, it's Canadian." She glanced at JJ taking in the little pink cats and yellow yarn balls covering her legs. On the TV a guy walked in on the two women. Prentiss gave a loud sigh.

"Don'tcha hate when that happens," JJ sat on the other side of the bed and looked squarely at Prentiss. "So, what's going on there?" JJ pushed her hair behind her ear and settled more comfortably on the bed.

"Well," Prentiss muted the commercials. "They were friends in college. The quirky girl, Erica, always regretted not knowing what it would've been like, or what would've happened, had she kissed her friend when her friend made a pass at her. Their friendship was ruined because of it. So," Prentiss paused and looked at JJ, "her therapist let her go back in time and do it all again."

JJ nodded. "Right; must be nice going back in time and doing things again."

They watched the conclusion of the show without further comment. When it was over Prentiss found CNN and muted the sound. She thought for a long moment before she spoke. It was a gamble how JJ would react but everything tonight had seemed to contrive to put them in this situation: the snow cancelling their flight, the last hotel room with only a king bed, the two or four drinks in the bar, the broken bathroom fan …

"Do you have any regrets about not having kissed a girl?"

"Who says I haven't? Do you?"

"I don't regret any of the girls I've kissed," Prentiss replied, a challenge in her tone.

JJ met her gaze and held it. After a moment she let her eyes travel over the other woman sitting beside her on the bed; over the white tank top that did not completely hide the dark nipples, over the long legs partially covered by the sheet.

"Were you watching me in the mirror," JJ flicked her eyes at the bureau, "while I was in the bathroom?"

Prentiss inclined her head and smiled ever so slightly. "Were you watching me?"

"Are you coming on to me, Emily Prentiss?"

"What would you think if I was, Jennifer Jareau?"

JJ pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She looked away, then back at Prentiss. "I think it would be very complicated," she took a deep breath, "but pretty damn hot."

**Chapter 3: Reconnecting With a Friend**

**Early Monday Morning, 9 days ago**

Prentiss opened one eye and looked at the glowing green numbers of her bedside digital clock.

03:02 and her phone was ringing. Not the BlackBerry she carried for work, but the iPhone she had picked up recently for personal use. "Fuck," she swore at it as she picked it up and looked at the call display.

"Some people sleep at night, you know, mija, "she said to her friend, and some time lover, from the DC police.

"Are you asleep?"

"Are you looking to hook up?" Prentiss answered the stupid question with an enquiry about their usual reason for getting together.

"No. Not this time. I actually have something," the voice faltered for a moment then resumed, "something I'd like you to look at. It's a case."

Prentiss lay back on her pillow and stared up through the gloom at the ceiling. "Is it a BAU case?"

"No. Not yet."

"Then you know I can't really …"

"One of the victims was someone you know, Em. Someone we both know."

"I'll put the coffee on."

**Later**

Prentiss peered through the peephole of her door at the woman waiting outside. Detective Theresa Lopez Carballo stood with an undisguised air of impatience. Prentiss waited another moment before opening the door.

"I'm surprised you didn't greet me in your Kevlar with yer gun drawn," Carballo started to stride past the taller FBI agent, but Prentiss caught her arm.

"You'd come in your pants if I did," she inclined her head slightly freezing the detective in place. Prentiss dropped her hand to Carballo's holstered handgun, traced her fingers slowly across the grips letting them come to rest on the other woman's belt buckle. Slowly she bent and kissed her softly, tenderly, on the mouth.

"Bitch," Carballo broke away, moved out of the entry hall, "me cago en tus muertos," she swore and went in the kitchen. Prentiss leaned against the counter watching as her guest poured herself coffee.

The detective was shorter and more compact then Prentiss with short dark hair and flashing, eager eyes.

"Que pasa, Tee-Lo?" Prentiss used her station house nickname deliberately.

"Yer not gonna like it," Carballo carried her coffee and briefcase into the living room, tossed her leather jacket on the couch, and sat. Prentiss joined her with the rest of the coffee in a thermal carafe.

Carballo placed three crime scene pictures on the coffee table. "Recognize them?"

Prentiss looked closely at the first photo. A woman in her thirties lay on the floor on a bedside mat partially tangled in a sheet as if she had rolled out of bed onto the floor and died. She was dressed in underpants and a T-shirt and appeared to have no signs of violence on her body. "I don't know her," she pushed the photo aside and looked questioningly at the detective.

"She was a lawyer and a lobbyist," Carballo provided. "I'd seen her around. Cause of death was OD on Triazolam mixed with alcohol. It's probable suicide."

Looking at the second photo, Prentiss bit her lip. "I talked to her once or twice. She's a Brit. She worked in some capacity at the British Embassy." Also in her thirties, this woman lay on her back, her eyes slightly open, a pool of blood below and around her head. "Was a Brit," Prentiss corrected herself. "Blunt force trauma?"

"Official circumstance of death is undetermined; possibly accidental."

"Accidental?" Prentiss raised a brow.

"There's a table just out of the frame with blood and hair on the corner of it. A broken glass and water stains were found on the floor."

"You don't buy it? That she slipped?"

"I'm not sure."

Prentiss took the last photo. A dark haired woman in her late twenties lay on a disheveled bed, her blouse ripped and bloodstained from several stab wounds. "I went on a date with her once – last year – I didn't sleep with her. When did she die? I didn't hear."

"Three weeks ago. It was on the news. I didn't get the case. Last I heard cops that did are leaning toward domestic violence. She had a nasty ex-boyfriend. The lesbian angle has been overlooked."

"You don't buy that either?"

"No. She might've had a nasty ex, but when she was with me she was all girl, know what I'm sayin'"

Prentiss couldn't suppress a smile at Carballo's slang.

"You see what I'm gettin' at here, FBI?" Carballo's jaw was tense and her eyes angry.

"They were all gay. Or playing at it," Prentiss looked over the photos again. The first two aren't necessarily foul play."

"You're missing something."

"What?" Prentiss was irritated." It's four o'clock in the morning. I'm not seeing it. Tell me, OK?" Prentiss held the detective's gaze until she relented.

"They were all at The Venue on the night they died. Check your calendar you prolly were too. I was at the last two nights."

"Shit," Prentiss ran both hands through her hair then flopped back on the couch.

"It's gettin' dangerous for us out there," Carballo studied her friend, her eyes changing from angry to something else as they roamed over the loosely worn sweatpants and sleeveless FBI Academy T-shirt, pausing to admire the bare skin showing through the gap at the waist .

"It's never a good time to be queer in this city," Prentiss met the look with one of her own. Her hand found the detective's where it lay on the back of the couch and traced slowly along her fingers to her wrist.

"Unless it's with you, jefa," Carballo said softly. "Then it's all good." She leaned forward moving closer to Prentiss. "Girl, you looked so hot the other night. Where'd you get those combat boots?"

"Government issue. Where'd you get the fireman helmet?"

Carballo shrugged. "Guy I know," she was watching closely as Prentiss took the holster off her belt and dropped it on the coffee table. Next her BlackBerry was removed. She caught her breath when Prentiss put her hand directly over her crotch and squeezed.

"I thought you was half asleep?" Carballo gasped at the pressure that was both direct and proprietary.

"Do I look asleep?" Prentiss moved over the smaller woman her hand now undoing the detective's belt.

"Hell, no," Carballo put her hands in the long, dark hair and closed the gap to kiss Prentiss hungrily.

After a moment Prentiss got up from the couch. "I have to be at work in a couple of hours." She held on to one of Carballo's hands, squeezed it.

"What? What about right now, right in this moment?" Carballo tugged at Prentiss' hand trying to pull her back to the couch.

"Right now, we're going upstairs."

**Chapter 4: File Check**

**Later that morning **

Prentiss tossed her leather briefcase beside her desk, plunked down in her chair, and smacked the space bar on her keyboard. Reid was watching her over the divider between their workstations but she ignored him. When the monitor came to life she entered her logon ID and password.

"How was your weekend?" Reid asked. "Do anything interesting?"

Prentiss spared him a _'wouldn't you like to know'_ glance as she started Outlook. The first email in her inbox was from Unit Chief Hotchner stating that Agents Morgan and Rossi would be out of the office all week at a forensics conference in Dallas. Morgan would be representing their team and the BAU, and Rossi would be presenting … she skipped over the details.

_I went to an event on Saturday night I think you would find fascinating, compelling and possibly disturbing, _Prentiss thought, _and this morning_ …

"I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning," she said.

"Yeah, me too," Reid commiserated. "I think it's because the days are getting shorter and there's less sunlight. Maybe they should move the BAU operations to Florida during the winter months."

"Great idea," JJ dropped some files on Prentiss' workspace and handed some over to Reid. "You didn't have time to dry your hair this morning?" JJ flipped a damp section of Prentiss' dark hair.

"Nope. Late getting up," Prentiss looked up at JJ who was running the hair through her fingers. "Is it time for the morning meeting?" she asked with just enough force to break JJ out of her spell. They had often had moments like this since Buffalo, but right now was not a particularly good time as Reid was watching.

"Yeah, time to gather," JJ dropped the lock of hair and ran her hand across Prentiss' shoulder. "Let's go," JJ waited long enough for Prentiss to lock out her PC, and then preceded her up the stairs with Reid following them.

**Later**

After the meeting Prentiss walked toward the washroom on the lower level. The hall was empty so she took out her iPhone. The cell had vibrated once in her pants pocket during the meeting announcing the arrival of a text message.

It was from Carballo. She read it in the stall.

_**Did u look yet?**_

She had promised she would discreetly find out if the FBI had taken any interest in any of the cases Carballo had shown her. The detective had also given her copies of the case files and she planned to read these over later.

Back at her desk, she typed the last victim's name into an internal FBI search engine. The result was several files, all of which she had clearance to access, except for the background file done by the FBI for the senator the woman worked for. It was created at the time of her employment and updated yearly.

_That_ _would probably be the most interesting_, she thought_. I can imagine what mine has in it. 'Subject appears to suffer from a borderline personality disorder'? If I hadn't studied psychology and sociology, I might be offended. Everyone has something in their file that's not complimentary. _She glanced up at Reid who was flipping through a folder. _Let's not even go there … _

Accessing the last file, the one created the day after the woman died, was likely to be logged by the system. This did not concern her as her job at the BAU often involved looking into all sorts of files searching for correlations. This is what Garcia did all day only a zillion times faster and on a far wider scale.

She clicked on the file and read through it briefly. It appeared to be a copy of the police report and it was assigned to a low-level FBI agent in the local office. It might as well be stamped with MONITOR as that was all it told her.

The other two victims were less interesting to the FBI. The British diplomat had an FBI file that was beyond her clearance level and was probably background info of a standard sort the CIA and DHS would find fascinating. The other woman had nothing. If there was something on her, it was buried in the deep dark levels as Google had told her the woman was a fairly well known corporate lawyer and a lobbyist for the interests of a big telecom company.

She sent a quick text to Carballo reporting her negative findings then started into the case files reading the first two through completely despite the tone of the reports being more about suicide, in the case of the first, and accident in the case of the second.

There was nothing remarkable about the first case. The deceased has consumed a large quantity of prescription medication and had a fairly high level of alcohol in her system. An empty, recently prescribed, pill bottle was found in the bathroom.

_Her family wanted the case closed and no further investigation done – TLC_ stated a Post-It-Note stuck on the file. Prentiss smiled at the detective's initials and how they inadvertently created a more interesting nickname. One she had used in more intimate settings.

So no hard questions had been asked about the death, Prentiss assumed.

At the end of the second file was another note: _Did she fall or was she pushed? – TLC_

Good question.

The last file was the most straightforward. People didn't commonly stab themselves in the chest. Likely with a long-bladed weapon that was not found at the crime scene, Prentiss noted. Carballo had as well along with several other points including how it appeared the unsub had cleaned himself up after and wiped away any finger prints that could have been left in the most likely places a guest would have touched. Hardly a crime of passion that an ex lover might've perpetrated.

Prentiss glanced over the top of the file and noticed an icon flashing on the taskbar of her PC. She clicked on the Office Communicator message from JJ.

**Jareau, Jennifer: You hungry for lunch yet?**

**Prentiss, Emily: Yeah, kinda. U?**

**Jareau, Jennifer: Starved. Wanna go downstairs with me?**

**Prentiss, Emily: Sure. Meet u by the elevators in 5?**

**Jareau, Jennifer: K**

Prentiss was in the cafeteria lineup when she felt her iPhone vibrate. The line was moving slowly and she was engaged in selecting lunch when her BlackBerry announced an incoming text. She knew Carballo would contact her second cell if the first was not answered promptly. She and JJ had just sat down when her iPhone began to vibrate intermittently signaling a voice call.

Looking away from JJ she took the call. "Que, mija?"

"Turn on the news right now!" Carballo was excited and stressed.

"I'm not in the office; I'm at lunch. What's going on?" Out of the corner of her eye she could see JJ watching her.

"Someone else is dead; stabbed. "Carballo paused and Prentiss could tell she was taking a deep breath. "It was Catherine-Margaret Wilkinson." Prentiss felt herself react though she tried hard not to. "I know you knew her. I did too."

_Everyone did_, Prentiss thought. She was one of the most active members of The Venue; young, very good-looking and totally uninhibited. And she was an ambitious up and comer at the State Department to boot. No wonder it was on the news.

"Is it yours?"

"No, but the guys on it aren't dumb. They're already tying it to the other stabbing."

There was a long silence between the two.

"There's nothing I can do right now. I'll get back to you," Prentiss ended the call. She placed the iPhone by her plate and started eating her salad.

"When did you get that?" JJ asked, looking at Prentiss curiously.

"It's for personal stuff," Prentiss replied adding no details. When she met JJ's eyes, her friend looked slightly hurt.

"You didn't give me the number."

Prentiss called up the display and placed the phone by JJ's tray. JJ added the number to her BlackBerry and handed the phone back.

"Everything alright, Emily?" she asked stirring her soup. "You turned pretty pale when you took that call."

Prentiss's face went through a range of emotions. "Yeah, just bad news about someone I knew."

Back upstairs in the bullpen Prentiss found the remote control for the big screen TV and flipped through the channels. Near the end of the local noon hour news the "Breaking News" story was replayed. The reporter was standing outside a Georgetown brownstone Prentiss had been to several times. A picture of the dead woman was in the upper left corner.

"… her body was found this morning although it appears she may have been dead several days …"

"She's cute; you knew her?" JJ leaned against the desk beside her their hips touching.

"Yeah, she worked for State," Prentiss kept her voice low despite the room being almost empty." I met her at some functions," she pointedly left off the exact _where_ assuming JJ would think it was connected with her mother.

"Was it a homicide?" JJ found Prentiss's hand where it rested on her thigh and interlocked their fingers.

"Yeah, totally sucks."


	2. Part II

**Chapter 5: In or Out**

**Tuesday Morning, 8 days ago**

Prentiss drove her car into the parking lot of the coffee shop and hit the door unlock switch. Carballo got in the passenger side and handed over a takeout coffee cup. Neither woman spoke as they fiddled with the cup lids.

"Mierda! Fucking hot!" Carballo broke the silence almost spilling her coffee.

"Do they have anything yet?"

"No," the detective looked out the window. "They haven't made the connection. You know, Em, they might not unless we tell them." She looked directly at the woman in the driver's seat. "It needs to come out; it'll prolly come out eventually."

Prentiss shook her head and looked away. "There's a reason it's secret. It's to let us live our lives as we want to without the interference."

"I know that!" Carballo retorted. "Do you think it was easy for me to come out at work?"

"Please don't start with all the whining about the Jennifer Lopez pictures stuck on your locker."

The detective snorted. "Wasn't that," she stated. "It was the looks the women gave me in the locker room like I was gonna jump their bones or something. Bitch! Yer just as ugly today as you were yesterday when you didn't know I was into girls!"

Prentiss smiled but her response was serious. "Some of them – some of us – are just not that comfortable with being out there like that."

"Still worried what yer mother's gonna think?"

"If I was worried about that, I would've jumped off the nearest cliff ages ago. I don't think there's anything I could do that would make that woman happy."

Carballo reached across the console and took her hand. "Thought you was over that?"

"I am. Coming out is complicated. Everyone looks at you different. It would change things at work."

"Sounds like what I just said. Anyway, what makes you think they don't know? You work with people who are the best at getting in other people's heads." Prentiss was looking away again. Carballo squeezed her hand. "What about that blonde you work with?"

"What about her?"

"I'm just sayin'," Carballo grinned. "I thought you kinda liked her?" When Prentiss gave her a stern look she qualified, "I thought you liked her more than the rest of us chicas, at least."

"I don't do relationships," Prentiss released Carballo's hand.

There was silence in the car again. Prentiss flicked the wipers at the rain on the windshield and sipped her coffee.

"Whether you're ready to out yourself or not, we're gonna have to do something about this perp killing our friends, "Carballo gave a heavy sigh. "If I'm right, and this is connected to The Venue …" she couldn't continue. "It seems like someone already knows, at the very least."

"It would cause too much damage to bring this all out in the open. What if you're wrong? We can't make that decision for all the other women."

"To out them and keep them safe?"

Prentiss turned her dark gaze full on the detective. "Let it go a few more days. These were prominent DC women. There's already a connection. It might be enough."

"Aw-rite, jeffa," Carballo licked her lip. "I'll hold my tongue for now," she opened the door, started to get out. "You keep on it on yer side."

**Later Tuesday**

Prentiss was watching some inane YouTube video Garcia had sent hoping it would clear her mind when a message window rose up from the taskbar in the lower right corner of her screen. It was an OC from JJ asking if she was busy. She killed the YouTube browser window and pulled out her earphones.

**Prentiss, Emily: No. Just watching that stupid thing about the kitten Garcia emailed. What's up?**

**Jareau, Jennifer: Can you come to my office?**

Prentiss hesitated before responding.

**Prentiss, Emily: k what's it about?**

**Jareau, Jennifer: Easier if you come over.**

Prentiss walked into JJ's office a minute later. "Can you shut the door?" JJ handed her a case file. Prentiss opened it, caught her breath, and then flipped it closed again to look at the logo on the outside. It said Federal Bureau of Investigation and the picture inside was CM Wilkinson.

"This is a BAU case now?" Prentiss stared down at JJ unnerved.

"Yes. Someone at the State Department called in a favour from someone at the FBI … someone at the Deputy Director level. Keep looking. Did you know the other woman? She was stabbed in a similar way three weeks ago."

Prentiss already knew before she flipped through the pages she would find the Senator's Aide; the woman who's death had brought Carballo to her door at four in the morning.

The look on her face must have given her away. "So you did," JJ said making it a statement not a question. "Can I ask how?" The query was delicate said more as a good friend, and one-time lover, might ask.

"JJ, there are things about me you don't know …"

"It doesn't really matter to me if you had sex with them," JJ interrupted, "and I know full well the woman you are here is far different than the woman you are in … private." They both knew that wasn't the word she wanted to use.

"Everyone has a game face, JJ," Prentiss sat in the chair in front of the desk crossing her legs and shaking her head slightly as she worked to regain her usually tight composure, "even you."

"I'd go crazy if I didn't, you know that," JJ shot back. "It's different for you though, being such a strong woman."

"You mean lesbian woman?" Prentiss cut in.

JJ looked at her monitor, typed something on her keyboard, locked out her computer and stood up. "I don't know what I mean sometimes," she stood looking down at Prentiss. "You're not like anyone I've ever known," she said softly as several emotions played across her face the most prominent being regret.

Prentiss stood, touched JJ's elbow, then her shoulder, then her cheek. "I'm sorry I hurt you," she said gently.

"It wasn't just you. I was at that motel in Buffalo too," JJ passed Prentiss the case file and started out the door headed toward the washroom not the conference room. "They're waiting," she said over her shoulder. "Tell them I'll be right there."

**Chapter 6: Complications**

**Upper Level Conference Room**

Garcia was sitting at the end of the table with a laptop computer in front of her. Reid was going through the pages of the file absorbing the information in his usual speed of light fashion. A minute later Hotchner followed JJ into the room and closed the door.

"We've been asked to look over these homicides as a favour by a Deputy Director. Right now the cases are with the DCPD. JJ?"

JJ gestured to Garcia and two crime scene photos appeared on the LCD on the wall. "Two women, both who worked for the federal government, have been stabbed to death in the last three weeks." JJ walked around to the front of the table closer to the screen. "The cops think the weapon used was some sort of long-bladed knife."

Prentiss felt a sick feeling creep into her stomach as she looked at the photo of the latest victim. CM Wilkinson was naked, lying on her back on her bed, and there was a lot of blood, far more than the last murder.

"If these murders are related, there appears to be an escalation. This scene is far more violent," Reid stated the obvious. "There's cast-off blood on the walls and on the ceiling," he gestured as Garcia scrolled through more crime scene pictures. "She has defensive wounds on her hands and arms. The first woman did not."

"They knew each other apparently," Hotchner added, "and they were both in the DC political scene. The case detectives think they are related; we'll go with that for now."

"Garcia," Reid directed his question to the technical analyst. "Can you see if there are any more deaths of prominent DC women in the over last while? Maybe there's more," he added to the room at large. "Don't confine the search to COD."

"I'm going to have to tweak that big time Super Boy," Garcia started typing.

"Tweak away."

Pictures and files began appearing on the screen. Garcia began tossing out ones that did not meet her criteria.

"I'm throwing out ones where the victim was too old," she explained as she worked. "Or the cause of death was too obviously explainable like car accident. There's really only two; if your main criteria is Washington or United States: Federal Government There Of." When she was done there were two case files left on the screen.

Prentiss gritted her teeth and saw JJ look at her sharply.

"That one's a suicide and that one's an accidental," Reid frowned at the screen.

"Both are only probable on the medical examiner's report," Garcia explained. "You asked for big girls on the DC campus and these two were that."

"A lobbyist and a British diplomat," Reid mused. "I'm not sure they can be considered connected. The link is too tenuous. Is there anything else that ties them to the other two?"

Prentiss sighed and pushed her hair back with one hand. JJ's eyes had never left her. Reid was staring at the screen or the case files, but Hotchner had noticed.

"What is it, Prentiss?"

"I need to be excused from this case," she stated flatly meeting his eyes then looking away.

"Why? Did you know these women?" There were times, Prentiss thought, when Hotch showed remarkable perception.

Her reaction had obviously given that away.

"Can I ask how?" Hotchner persisted.

"I didn't really know the suicide, just knew of her. The other three were friends or acquaintances."

"Does how you know them have any bearing on this case?" Hotchner asked pointedly.

"I'm not sure. Possibly it does," Prentiss stood and gathered up her copy of the file fully aware of every eye in the room on her.

"You are connected to this, or at least you believe you are. Can you tell us how?" Hotchner's tone was not without sympathy.

For a heartbeat Prentiss considered telling him everything. Eventually her other side won out and she replied carefully, "We traveled in the same DC circles." She hoped it was enough for him.

Hotchner sat back his face devoid of expression. When he said nothing else, Prentiss started toward the door.

"I'd like to leave now; for the rest of the day if it's OK."

"Emily," Hotchner's voice stopped her at the door. "I'm sorry for your loss."

**Chapter 7: Searching **

**Early Wednesday Morning, 7 days ago**

Prentiss tossed the covers aside and swung her legs around the side of the bed. There was no use trying to sleep anymore her mind was just too active. In the bathroom, the face that looked back at her in the mirror was uncertain and anxious. She hated seeing that look and turned away. Scooping up her two cell phones, she went down the hall to her home office.

She opened her personal laptop and booted it before looking at the two cells. Both had messages. Neither message had alerted her audibly as Carballo was the only person in her contacts list right now she had set to generate a ring tone.

The message on her BlackBerry was an email from Hotchner. It stated she didn't have to come into the office the following day if she didn't want to. She could work from home. The team would not be asked to travel for any cases this week being short two members.

The text message on her iPhone was from JJ**: I'm worried about you. Call / text / email me, OK?**

Prentiss put both phones aside without replying. Hotchner could wait until morning, and JJ she couldn't deal with right now.

The wall to her left held a large white board. She stared at it for a moment as an idea came to her. Carballo had sent a text earlier in the evening saying she was going to start asking some questions at the bars and clubs to see if any of the women who were members of The Venue had noticed an outsider taking special interest in them or the women who had died. Prentiss knew it was a long shot as a lot of the Venue members did not frequent the public women's scene. It was, at least, a start. Carballo, she knew, would be able to get a general sense of the mood among DC's women.

She began by putting down column headers for the four dead women and adding rows where specific information could be added. Once finished that, she began adding the details as she knew them or as provided by the case files.

Almost an hour later the grid was full with details on date, COD, location, relationship both she and Carballo had to the deceased, and details about The Venue location and theme. Sitting in her desk chair and gazing at it, Prentiss realized for the first time she had in fact, as Carballo had suggested, been at all four Venue events.

Picking up her iPhone, she called Carballo but the call went to voicemail. She decided to transcribe the info into a spreadsheet and email it to her. As she worked more questions occurred to her and she added more rows. The "friends" row she had the most trouble adding facts to. She didn't really know the first three women well enough to know who their friends were, and CM Wilkinson probably knew everyone.

Likewise a new row for "occupation / employer" produced little other than all the women were connected to the federal government somehow.

The row titled "Venue" she highlighted in red. Each of the four victims had been at a Venue event shortly before they died. The time of death on the medical examiner's reports put it at just hours before they died.

The victim's attendance was verified either by herself or Carballo. Prentiss found herself wondering how many of the other women who had been at the events knew what she and Carballo knew: someone who was there with them was now dead.

Prentiss saved the spreadsheet to her desktop and attached it to a brief email that she sent to the detective from her main personal account. She added a line at the bottom requesting Carballo call when she had reviewed it.

Thinking about The Venue, she opened the calendar attached to her email. The upcoming Saturday night had "Venue" written in the 10pm timeslot. The information had been automatically added to the calendar when she had clicked on "accept" in the invitational email. Prentiss fished the email out of the deleted box and opened it.

The email was written deliberately bland so anyone reading it who was not 'in the know' would think it was just a group of people getting together to share a common interest. The topics covered a lot of ground from "Book Group" to "Investing". This last email gave the topic as "Being a liberal in America after Obama". Hardly something she would be willing to attend as she hated politics, but it was unlikely to draw any suspicion.

At the bottom of the email, buried in a several lines of a pretentious signature, was an inconspicuous hyperlink. Consisting only of an IP address it gave no hint as to where it led. Prentiss clicked on it and Explorer launched opening a webpage showing only of a picture of the DC skyline. This one was a night time scene of the Washington Monument. Prentiss barely had time to admire it when a dialog box popped up requesting she enter her authorization.

She entered a user ID and password and the screen changed to a background of the Hollywood sign in Los Angeles overlaid with text. This was the real info on the event at The Venue including the 'secret' location and details on the theme.

Prentiss had already read it when she accepted the invitation. The details were in her mind, not written down. Her eyes went to the website address in the taskbar at the top. The IP address was there followed by /venue and Saturday's date numerically by day, month and year.

Changing the date to that of the previous event gave her only a "page not found" error. Several other dates brought the same result. Thinking it might be simple, she backspaced out the date leaving only the IP address / venue. The authorization dialog box popped up again and she reentered her logon. The dialog box was replaced with a smaller box that stated she was "not authorized to view this webpage".

Putting her chin on her fist she stared at the screen. There must be something there to see even if she wasn't allowed to access it. She thought of Garcia and her hacking skills but it was now 05:00 and she really didn't want to involve the analyst. So far she was shutting out everyone on the team, even JJ.

Before heading back to bed, she sent an email to Hotchner accepting his offer to allow her to work from home and adding that she might be at home until the end of the week. If he responded negatively she would deal with it then.

**Chapter 8: Hit and Run**

**Early Wednesday Afternoon **

Prentiss let herself into her condo, dropped her gym bag on the floor and tossed the bag of bagels in her freezer. She had pushed herself hard at the gym and her legs still felt weak from the punishment she had put them through on the elliptical and the stair-climber. As a reward she had eaten breakfast at her favourite deli getting some bagels to go.

The time display on her iPhone told her it was after 1pm and Carballo had still not called. JJ had left text messages on both her BlackBerry and iPhone the tone of both worried.

Upstairs, in her home office, Prentiss opened her laptop, logged off her personal profile and logged on under her work profile. When her desktop had loaded, she launched the restricted logon webpage and inserted her USB secure token. A dialog box appeared and she typed in her password waiting while the screen displayed several dire warning messages about unauthorized use of a secure system.

For security reasons, she had limited access from home to FBI files except for those in her personal drive on the less secure BAU server and those other members of the team shared with her.

She started Outlook and was looking at her email when an OC message popped up from Garcia.

**Garcia, Penelope: Girl, what's up with you?**

**Prentiss, Emily: Nothing special. I'm WFH today.**

**Garcia, Penelope: I know it's none of my bizzyness but JJ is worried about something and after yesterday I think it's about you.**

Prentiss opened the Office Communicator application and noted that JJ's status was set to "in a meeting".

**Prentiss, Emily: Any developments on that case?**

**Garcia, Penelope: *That Case* as in that case you excused yourself from?**

**Prentiss, Emily: Yeah.**

**Garcia, Penelope: Honestly, I've not been called on to use any of my special powers again. What they talked about after you left was kicking it back to the cops to ask more questions to see if they had friends in common. **

**Prentiss, Emily: So they took what I said …**

**Garcia, Penelope: Kinda. You know Hotch won't drag you into it unless he has to. You have them all *really* curious.**

**Prentiss, Emily: I suppose. **

**Garcia, Penelope: Hun, I know if you wanted me in on it you'd tell me and then I'd be all over it like insert yer fave metaphor here. **

Prentiss paused for a long moment. She didn't want to involve Garcia, yet there was something the tech could do much easier and faster than she could.

**Prentiss, Emily: I know, thx. There is 1 thing. Can you find someone for me? **

**Garcia, Penelope: Speak who and I will find.**

**Prentiss, Emily: Detective Theresa Lopez Carballo**

**Garcia, Penelope: Si, Senorita. I take you have already asked at her local hacienda for cops?**

**Prentiss, Emily: They won't tell me anything and I didn't want to flash my badge over the phone. **

**Garcia, Penelope: It will be done. BTW if you don't want to get totally kicked to JJ's doghouse I suggest you hide.**

Prentiss logged out of OC and waited for Garcia to get back to her.

After ten minutes an email dropped in her inbox.

I think I found your girl: Detective Theresa Lopez Carballo (Metro PD, born 9 July 1974, Panama City, Panama now a naturalized US citizen) is in fair condition in hospital with a concussion and a broken arm. Police report says she stepped off the curb into the path of an oncoming car early this morning. The driver didn't stick around.

The email went on the give the hospital details.

Prentiss disconnected her secure connection and logged out of her work profile. She closed the laptop and sat staring at it without seeing for a long moment. A very inconvenient accident, if it was an accident. She could not help but feel she was now in this alone.

Galvanized, she returned to her bedroom and changed into jeans, a black silk blouse and a black suit jacket that made her look conservative while hiding her service weapon. She checked the Glock's magazine before attaching the holster to her belt. Other accessories included the two cell phones, her Bureau ID, and a pair of low heeled shoes.

The Bureau ID got her past the nurse's station at the hospital. In the private room, Carballo lay propped up on numerous pillows, her left arm in a cast, her eyes closed.

Prentiss stood by the bed for a few moments before the eyes opened and focused on her. "Que pasa, jefa? I can smell you."

"That how you make detective, mija?"

"That and my cute ass," Carballo pushed herself farther up on the pillows and reached for the water cup. "I've been trying to get my phone back. Fuckers in the department won't give it to me and my family won't lend me one."

"I brought you one," Prentiss placed a disposable cell phone on the tray table next to the water. "What happened?"

"Hit and run. Bastard's lights were off. I didn't see a thing then bam!" Carballo slapped the sheet with an open palm. "No witnesses and I had had a few," she looked away.

"Undercover, huh?" Prentiss commented but didn't press the issue. "Did you find out anything?"

Carballo looked up at the FBI agent with a pained expression. "Nothing. No one has seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. No one seems particularly concerned either."

"It has to be The Venue, Tee-Lo, it's what they all had in common. What we have in common."

"Do you know the organizers? Can you contact them?"

"No," Prentiss answered. "No one really does as far as I know. It's part of it being secret." She glanced at Carballo's cast. "I was hoping we could figure this out on Saturday night, but it looks like you're not going to make it."

"So it would seem. You're gonna go?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

**Wednesday Evening**

Prentiss spent the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening shopping. She wasn't sure which of the items she had purchased she would need for Saturday night, but at least she now had options.

Back at her condo, she laid the clothing out on her bed and studied each with a practiced eye. The Saturday night event had the potential to be fun were it not for the shadow hanging over it and everyone who might attend.

Before going to bed, she sent JJ an email apologizing for her silence and asking for her understanding as she worked out some personal issues.

**Chapter 9: You Have No Idea What You Do to Me**

**Thursday Morning, 6 days ago**

There was no reply to that email all through the morning. Prentiss spent the time going through her backlog of email and catching up on all of the "must read" memos and human resources development "courses" that no one ever bothered to actually read or do.

She made a point of making sure her OC status was "available" for anyone that might be checking. No one contacted her and she was beginning to think this working from home thing was beyond boring and she should just go into the office.

At 12:30 she set her status to "away" with a note adding "gone to the gym", locked her laptop, and left the condo.

**Later**

She had just changed her status back to "available" when a message popped up from JJ.

**Jareau, Jennifer: Hey. How was your workout?**

**Prentiss, Emily: Great. You wouldn't recognize me I look like Arnold Schwarzenegger.**

**Jareau, Jennifer: Hardly! **

**Jareau, Jennifer: Listen, I know you asked for time but I really need to talk to you. **

**Jareau, Jennifer: Hotch is letting me take the rest of the afternoon off I thought maybe we could meet later for a drink.**

**Prentiss, Emily: Is Will going to babysit?**

**Jareau, Jennifer: Will has taken Henry home to New Orleans for a while. I didn't oppose him.**

**Prentiss, Emily: Oh.**

**Jareau, Jennifer: Yeah.**

**Prentiss, Emily: You remem that place where we had lunch that time near my condo?**

**Jareau, Jennifer: I should be there by 4**

**Late Thursday Afternoon**

'That place' was a neighbourhood pub with dark wood paneling and comfy, intimate seating. Prentiss was in a booth near the back when JJ arrived. Her long legs were stretched out under the table with one foot up on the seat across from her. Ankle boots, black cargo pants, a black T-shirt with her BlackBerry and iPhone on her belt, her posture was relaxed and totally in control. Her heavy watch moved loosely on her left wrist as she traced circles around the rim of her beer glass.

She moved her foot so JJ could sit down then put it back. The waiter came to the booth, placed two more beers on the table, one in front of each of them, and withdrew without a word.

Prentiss had her hair pulled back in a ponytail – the one she usually reserved for scenarios that involved kicking in doors and blowing away unsubs – and her face was devoid of the makeup she usually put on for the office.

JJ took a long drink, placed the glass carefully on the table.

"I have no idea what I was going to say." Ever so slowly she let her gaze meet the dark eyes across from her. "You have no idea what you do to me when you butch it up like that," JJ let out a long breath, looked again at the foot planted beside her thigh. Her eyes travelled slowly back to her companion's face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to …"

"Don't be sorry. It's not you. It's me," JJ dropped her eyes to the table, stared at Prentiss' hands. "You have the most amazing hands," with one finger JJ reached out and traced the knuckles where they held the glass across from her. "Did I ever tell you that, Emily?"

Prentiss smiled feeling a slight blush come into her cheeks. "Yeah, you did; in Buffalo." She looked at her hands as if seeing them for the first time; wiggled her fingers at JJ.

JJ smiled, relaxing slightly. "I'm sorry about Buffalo, Em … I …"

"Sorry? Why?"

"I'm sorry that I never talked to you. I'm sorry that I just left it; that I acted like it never happened." JJ's eyes roamed over the wall behind Prentiss unable to meet her eyes.

"I shouldn't have put you in that situation," Prentiss took JJ's hand, held it tight.

JJ was shaking her head. "I wanted to, Em," their eyes finally met and JJ felt herself caught in that dark intensity that was Emily Prentiss. "That's the problem. I still want to."

JJ was up from the table before she really knew what she was doing. The exit directly in front of her led to the back hall and the washrooms. She was headed down the hall toward the women's when a strong hand caught her arm.

"Jennifer, wait," Prentiss let go when JJ stopped. She closed the distance between them let her hands settle on either side of the blonde's waist. Slowly she pulled the other woman to her, felt JJ's arms tighten across her back. For a long time she just held her thinking of things to say and discarding them as pointless.

JJ moved against her not pulling away but shifting so her lips brushed Prentiss' ear then her jaw. Her desire rising, Prentiss slide a hand under JJ's blouse and up her back. She turned her head so her lips met the shorter woman's mouth and kissed her eagerly, deeply.

JJ met the kiss, not wanting it to end, her own need so strong she felt as if she had stepped outside herself and was watching someone else. Finally she broke off, gasping, "Oh, God, Emily!"

JJ felt the other woman smiling against her cheek. It lasted only a moment then the arms around her went stiff. When JJ pulled back to look, Prentiss' eyes had gone troubled.

"JJ, I can't do this," she whispered painfully. "I'm not the person you think I am or think I can be." She loosened her grip, took a half step back putting space between them.

"I know that it's different for you, Emily," she held tight to the taller woman's forearms.

"You can do better than me, Jennifer. I can't give you …" Prentiss broke off looked away. Her jaw tensed and her eyes darted around.

JJ caught her chin, forced their eyes to meet. Slowly she put the words together -- words that when she said them aloud she could hardly believe they were coming from her own mouth yet she knew it was the truest thing she had ever said to anyone.

"What makes you think, that right in this moment, I don't want to be possessed by you? Feel your strength surround me, devour me? I know what you …"

Just then a man came into the hallway. JJ felt his eyes on her, on them, and she felt so exposed that the moment instantly evaporated. He turned the other way and disappeared through a door. JJ dropped her arms to her sides looked down.

"JJ, you shouldn't, you can't ... you don't know …"

When she finally looked up, Prentiss' eyes were warm and sympathetic not dark and dangerously passionate.

Without a word, JJ turned away, walking, and then running, down the hall toward the back door. She hit the panic bar, slammed the door open hard, and fled into the alley.

Prentiss let her go.

**19:35 hours Thursday**

Prentiss slowed her pace when she saw the man and woman standing at the door to her condo. They were cops, she was sure. She let her hands drop to her sides made herself very still.

"Are you SSA Emily Prentiss?" the man asked in a firm no nonsense tone.

"Yes."

"Are you armed, agent?" asked the woman who had a hand at the holster on her hip.

"No." She wanted to untie her coat to show them, but knew this would be a provocation.

The man had his weapon drawn now, trained on her. He nodded to the woman who then approached her and, slowly, carefully, pulled at the belt tie on Prentiss's long coat. When the coat fell open, the woman felt around her waist finding only the BlackBerry and iPhone.

"My credentials are in my left breast pocket," Prentiss dipped her chin down indicating the spot. The woman cop gingerly reached in took it out. She glanced at it put it in her own pocket.

"Am I under arrest, detectives?"

"We would like you to come with us to answer some questions."

"In regard to…"

"It is in regard to the murders of Catherine-Margaret Wilkinson and Amanda Reyes."


	3. Part III

**Chapter 10: Snowed-In In Buffalo (continued) **

**3 years ago**

"_I think it would be very complicated," she took a deep breath, "but pretty damn hot."_

JJ's eyes were roaming over Prentiss again and Prentiss realized this was not the first time she had been on the receiving end of this look. There had, in fact, been many times; many times when JJ had been openly flirting. It was usually when they were alone, the men on the team somewhere else, occupied with something else.

She had tried not to think that way about the younger woman; tried not to do anything to lead her to think she was interested. Prentiss normally had a rule about people she worked closely with: no sex and don't let them get too close.

"You are gorgeous, you know that," JJ turned toward Prentiss, reached out with one hand, and traced the other woman's bare thigh with the tips of her fingers. "When I first met you, I was scared to death of you."

"Why?" Prentiss shifted to her right side closing the distance between the two of them.

JJ took her hand, drew it to her mouth, kissed each finger slowly, softly. She looked up at the other woman who was watching her with those incredible dark eyes. "You have the most amazing hands," she placed her palm flat against Prentiss' hand as if measuring their two hands together. She then let their fingers intertwine, squeezed hard. "You are so strong, so intense. When you look at me …"she couldn't continue. "The guys don't get it."

"That's because it's not for them; it never will be." Prentiss freed her hand from JJ's grip, touched the other's chin, her soft hair, let her hand fall to JJ's belly her touch feather light at first then gripping more forceful.

JJ sucked in a harsh breath, "God," she moved against the hand on her moving closer, almost lunging, until their faces were inches apart and Prentiss' hand was slipping inside her pajama bottoms.

"This is my world," Prentiss said her lips just grazing JJ's. "Who I am," she kissed JJ tenderly, broke off. "What I do," again she kissed her this time more deeply feeling the response to her touch from the other woman like a physical pain in her chest. Her mouth on JJ's, she pushed her onto her back, moved fully over the other woman, letting their bodies fit together. "And I will give you so much pleasure."

**Chapter 11: You Don't Know Who I Am **

**07:12 hours Friday **

The footsteps coming down the corridor were unmistakable. Prentiss opened one eye but did not move. The cell door was unlocked and the familiar feet paced inside, stopped.

"It's smaller than I expected," JJ nodded to the officer who then walked away leaving them alone.

"I thought you were going to say you never thought you'd see me in a place like this," Prentiss flipped her long coat off her body, sat up.

"I'm not sure that's entirely true," JJ crossed her arms over her chest looked down at the other woman on the bunk.

Prentiss was dressed exactly as JJ had last seen her; a little rumpled, a little tired, but essentially the same. She ran a hand through her loose, dark hair, sighed.

JJ moved to sit beside her. "Are you alright?" she took her hand, squeezed.

"Yeah, they don't have anything on me."

"I know. You're being released. They're just doing the paperwork."

Holding onto the hand of the blonde woman beside her, Prentiss stared at the wall of the jail cell. She wasn't thinking of the hours of interrogation; the hours of police detectives thinking they could make her – a BAU profiler – say something incriminating. Say she had murdered those two -- or four -- women in a fit of lesbian rage. She was thinking about yesterday; yesterday before the cops were at her door.

"Jennifer, I'm sorry about yesterday," she looked at JJ her face open and honest. "We just seem to keep going down that road and it's not right. I need to stop letting you think …"

"Letting me think what?"

"Letting you think that we can be together," Prentiss got up suddenly paced the short distance to the other side of the cell. "It was hardly right in Buffalo. It sure isn't right now." She was facing the wall yet still heard JJ breathe out sharply.

"You mean because of Will and Henry?"

Prentiss turned, her back to the wall, she crossed her arms on her chest. "Yeah, there's that," she nearly spit out the words.

The words stung JJ, but she didn't let it go. "I thought this was all about you. About how I shouldn't want to be with you because you're all dark and dominating. All …"

Prentiss cut her off with a sharp swipe of her hand through the air.

But JJ wasn't finished: "I don't love him, Emily."

"Then why did you …"

"I couldn't not have the baby," JJ stood up her eyes trying desperately to catch the other woman's gaze. "Any other option was not something I could live with."

"Why? It's not so hard. I did it once," Prentiss's voice was a flat whisper.

JJ's head snapped up but Prentiss was looking away. "God, Emily! When, how?"

"I was fifteen. I had no other option."

"Emily, I'm sorry," JJ tried to catch her chin with her hand but Prentiss pulled away. "What's with you? I just don't understand."

"That's right, you don't understand," Prentiss was backed up against the wall, JJ holding her there.

"How can I?" JJ pleaded. "You won't let me!" With both hands she pushed the taller woman, shoved her with her palms.

Prentiss was still for a long moment her mouth tight, eyes blank. Then those dark eyes shifted, grew even darker as something inside her stirred. Something from deep down inside moved upward. Something that could've been anger, should have been rage, but wasn't, welled up.

JJ had only a second to register the look of intense, burning desire before she was turned around, jammed up against the wall, and Prentiss' lips were at her ear. "You don't know who I am," the deep, silken voice whispered. "What I can really do," each word was punctuated with a touch of her hot breath on JJ's jaw, neck, ear. "What I can make you feel."

The younger woman felt a tangle of emotions rush through her. Fear, confusion, anger, and mixed in, her own desire was pushing its way up into her chest and demanding, against all reason, to be met, faced.

"Get off me!" JJ resisted her own feelings and those of the other woman as they both threatened to overwhelm her.

Prentiss pulled back just enough so their eyes could meet. She turned her head to the side studying JJ; searching for something in her eyes. Something she didn't find. Suddenly she stepped back, hands in front, palms up and out.

JJ watched as Prentiss seemed to shake herself, regain herself. When she spoke it was soft, almost as if it was meant only for herself. "I hurt someone once," she jerked her jaw sharply, looked away as if to hide from a sting of tears, "when I let myself go too far. I don't want to …"

She didn't get a chance to finish as heavy footsteps were coming down the corridor.

**Chapter 12: Collaboration**

**11:20 hours Friday **

The next few hours were a blur. They had driven in uncomfortable silence back to Prentiss' condo where she was able to take a few minutes to clean up, and get her things together so she could report to Hotchner at Quantico.

He had not said much; simply stated that she was under suspension until this problem she was mixed up in could be resolved. Prentiss had placed her credentials, service weapon, and security passes on his desk, thanked him and left. She did not meet anyone's eye as she walked through the bullpen toward the elevator.

The last thing she had expected was to see Penelope Garcia squeeze onto the elevator just before the doors closed. Garcia was dressed as if she were leaving for the day: her large tote bag under one arm and an even larger laptop bag under the other.

"Here's the scoop, Miz Trouble," Garcia started as the elevator began its descent. "You've got a problem and you need help. Your friends are going to help whether you want us to or not."

As the elevator arrived at the lobby, Garcia continued to explain as she and Prentiss went towards the door to the parking lot. "As Project Manager of this little mess, I'm driving you home where we will be joined by Reid and JJ," when Prentiss stopped and would have protested, Garcia over rode her. "Yes, indeed and in my car. Yours isn't here, remember?"

Back at her condo, Prentiss sighed as she hung her coat in the hall closet. "Garcia, you don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do," was the reply from the kitchen then, "show me where the coffee is then you can go have a shower."

When she finally came downstairs showered and feeling somewhat better, Prentiss found Garcia, JJ and Reid in her living room. She paused at the bottom of the stairs uncertain.

Reid saw her first. "I brought some pastries," he opened a box on the coffee table. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, I'm starved." She felt like a child as she sat beside him on the couch. The scene in the jail cell now seemed a million years ago. Across from her, JJ sipped coffee and met her eyes with a guarded expression.

Garcia had settled herself on an ottoman at the end of the coffee table her laptop in front of her a long cable running to the 60 inch flat screen on the wall. "Bitchin' LCD, girl!" she commented. "Can I jump on your wireless Internet or do you want me to use your neighbour's?"

"By all means use mine," Prentiss waved a turnover.

"Sweet," Garcia typed rapidly and after a moment her desktop appeared on the big TV screen. She ignored Reid's raised brow at her disjointed and eccentric workspace. "Let's get this party started," she swiveled on the ottoman, looked directly at Prentiss. "Emily, honey, we know this will be hard for you. We want you to know we are behind you two hundred and ten percent."

"Yes, we are," Reid chipped in. "Whatever it is we're here to help."

JJ said nothing.

Garcia hit a key and the screen was filled with the two possible victims and the two known victims. These pictures were not the crime scene photos, but pictures of the women as they used to be; alive and full of life.

Prentiss left the couch and stood closer to the screen staring at the pictures as the enormity of the four deaths sunk in.

"I didn't figure this out," she began. "I have a friend at Metro PD. She brought it to me after the third death." She turned, faced her colleagues. "Between myself and the detective I know, we knew all these women. I knew the last three personally," she thought but did not add that she knew the last one intimately. An image of CM Wilkinson had come to her as she stared at her picture. An image of the two of them gasping, sweating together as Prentiss pressed her body over the other woman in a pressure that was eagerly accepted.

"What is the connection, Emily," JJ asked. "What ties these four women together and to you?"

Prentiss looked at JJ and wondered if there wasn't something in her eyes that said she didn't really want to know.

"The Venue," she answered looking at JJ, Garcia and Reid in turn. "They were all at The Venue the night they died."

Standing in front of the screen, Prentiss faced her three friends. They were waiting expectantly for her to explain. _OK_, she thought, _here I go outing myself. Well, except for JJ …_

"The Venue is like a secret women's club. I'm violating the trust of all the members by telling you this."

"Like Fight Club?" Reid sat up straight. "First rule of Fight Club is, don't talk about Fight Club."

Prentiss gave him one of her looks until he subsided. "We don't beat each other up; it's just the opposite actually, but yeah, sort of like that." She returned to her place on the coach, poured more coffee. "I don't know how it started or who started it. I've been a member for almost three years. You have to be sponsored by someone who is already a member to get in. There are a quite a few high profile DC women who are members – I'm not going to get into who because it's absolutely imperative the membership stays within the membership."

Again, Prentiss looked at each of the others. "Everyone who is a member of The Venue is either a lesbian or is interested in exploring the possibility they might be."

Reid looked as if he had just seen all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, Garcia was actually smiling, and JJ was looking pointedly away.

"So, let me get this straight …" Reid stood and started to move toward the screen.

"Hell, no!" Garcia interrupted. "This is the Sapphic Sisters' Fight Club, Reid. No straight girls or boys allowed."

Reid grimaced. "Yes, I get it," he said. "It was an unfortunate turn of phrase." Reaching the end of the couch he turned and faced Prentiss. "By the way, Emily," he spoke her name carefully, frowned slightly before continuing, "I want to say thank you for letting us into your confidence. I'm sure it wasn't easy."

"Totally," Garcia agreed. "From now on I'll stop forwarding you all those jokes with the hunky guys."

Everyone looked at JJ.

"I already knew," she said without elaboration.

"Anyway," Reid stood in front of the screen. "Now that we know how these women were related to each other, we need to further define the victimology as well as what is the motive? Who had access to all the victims?"

Prentiss thought of something, started to get up. "There's a file on my computer upstairs …"

"Let me save you the trip," Garcia hit some keys and opened another window. "What's it called?"

"Victim info," Prentiss frowned at the screen as she watched Garcia scrolling through the directories of the laptop that was on her desk upstairs.

"Ah, there it is right next to your shortcut to The Huffington Post." Garcia clicked on it and the spreadsheet she had created that sleepless night appeared.

Prentiss and Reid stood looking at it. "Nice work," Reid pronounced. "Everything you know is here, I presume?" When Prentiss nodded, he continued. "Who is this?" he was pointing at Carballo's name in the "relationship" row.

"That's my friend from Metro."

"Detective Theresa Lopez Carballo," Garcia elaborated. "How is she, by the way?"

"She's good; out of the hospital now."

"Hospital?" Reid's brow furrowed in curiosity. "What happened to her?"

"She was hit and run while she was out asking questions about the case."

"Hit and run? You didn't think this was connected?"

Prentiss started to explain, but Reid was already turning to Garcia. "Can you add another column for Detective Carballo?"

"On it, sweetie," Garcia was typing rapidly. "I'll make my own version of The Chart for the DC Girl's Club if you want."

Reid had started to open his mouth to ask when Prentiss cut him off with a sharp "Don't ask."

A column had now appeared at the end of the grid topped by a picture of Carballo in her dress uniform. "Is she a member?" Garcia asked.

"Yes, I sponsored her," Prentiss found herself remembering the night they had first met; Carballo full of her Latina swagger approaching Prentiss at a women's bar when Prentiss had happened to be in one of her more femme moods.

"Que pasa, chica?" Carballo had let her eyes roam over the tight jeans and cropped top Prentiss had been wearing. "You are looking fine tonight."

Prentiss had dropped her eyes to survey the younger woman's firm, nicely muscled rear contained in snug, black pants; had slowly let her eyes travel up and over the red tank top the other woman was wearing as Carballo leaned on the bar. "Can I buy you a drink, mija?" Prentiss had then asked subtly shifting the balance of power her way.

Carballo had stared long at Prentiss giving away nothing. "If that's how you like it, jefa, it's all good by me."

Reid was talking: "So all these women are members of The Venue. The four that are dead – probably murdered -- their connections are the federal government and their attendance at a Venue event. You were at all four events – that's what the police figured out I suspect – and Detective Carballo was at three." Reid paused, thinking.

"Carballo was the victim of a hit and run accident when she started asking questions," Reid continued. "What else is it about these four – five if we count the detective and," he paused, looked at Prentiss. "Six if we count you."

Something clicked in Prentiss's mind. "These four weren't out," she began talking out loud. "They attended The Venue but they kept their sexuality a secret in real life. Not like Carballo. She was totally out. Everyone that knew her knew that."

"Would that make them a target?" JJ asked sitting forward with interest.

"And who outside of The Venue would know their secret lifestyle?" Reid added.

"No one," Prentiss did not like where this was going. "That means someone on the inside."

"Someone who maybe had a grudge against the federal government and women who were not out to the world," JJ finished.

"I think we completed the victimology and have a possible motive," Reid said sitting down on the couch again and opening the pastry box. "Now we need to find out who else was at all four events and knew Detective Carballo was asking questions. Do you have anything else to eat? And I think we need more coffee," Reid looked expectantly at Prentiss.

A few minutes later bagels, cream cheese and another carafe of coffee were on the table. Prentiss poured another cup for JJ their fingers briefly touching as she passed her the mug. JJ smiled slightly giving that look Prentiss had come to know as 'it's OK' or 'I'm alright'.

"I think I know how to get more information," Prentiss looked at Garcia. "If I gave you an IP address could you get into the server on the other end?"

"Toot sweet," Garcia opened another app, typed in the IP and began a trace route.

The screen showed several hops through the Internet. "There's the router," Garcia explained as if the information on screen was meaningful to anyone else. "There's the firewall and …" she grabbed some information and pasted it into another window. "It's an HP Unix box; a webhosting server at an ISP in Atlanta. What do you want me to do with it?" she looked at Prentiss expectantly. "It's at my mercy."

"When an event is announced there's a website members go to for the details. We can only access the one page and it's protected by a logon. All members have a user ID and password."

"Not exactly high security, hun," Garcia waited.

"I know," Prentiss was up again walking toward the screen. "I think there are other files on that server about The Venue; files that only the organizers have access to. Can you access any files on that server pertaining to The Venue?"

Garcia smiled her best geek smile as more information began flying across the screen. After only a minute or so a root directory appeared. Garcia's cursor scrolled through the files stopping on one named VENUE. When she clicked that more files appeared.

Prentiss stared at the screen. There were folders named by year inside of which was event information. A file named CURRENT had event info from this year.

"Garcia, click on ADMIN," Prentiss said slowly both curious and reluctant. Inside were a security file for logons and passwords and a file called MEMBERS.

"Do you want me to?" Garcia's hands were poised over the keys.

"Not yet."

There was one other subfolder inside the ADMIN folder. It was named simply VID.

"Can you open that?"

Garcia clicked and more files appeared. They appeared to be numerically arranged by date.

"Garcia, what kind of files are those?" Prentiss asked once again reluctant.

"They're video files," she clicked on one randomly and Prentiss caught her breath as the interior of a recent Venue event appeared. The camera panned around the room taking in thirty or forty women a lot of them dressed in a similar fashion.

"Oh," Reid gave a jerk of his shoulders where he sat on the couch. "Sarah Palin night."

"Garcia, freeze that!" Prentiss turned to the others her hands on her hips.

"You betcha!" Garcia hit a key and the image froze. "I can see Russia from my house," she said in a squeaky voice barely able to contain a laugh.

"You know," Reid began in his lecture voice, "she never actually …"

"God!" Prentiss cut him off. She turned away hitting her forehead with the heel of her hand. "I guess I should explain that each event has a theme, and most everyone who goes to the event participates in the theme, as it were."

"It was on your spreadsheet," Reid provided. "Although rather cryptically. This one was …" he broke off thinking.

"Political Night," JJ spoke up a slight smile on her face. Prentiss dropped to the couch beside JJ who touched her back tentatively as Prentiss ducked her head running her hands through her hair.

"Girl, have I told you lately that you totally rock?" Garcia had zoomed in on a figure on the screen and was enhancing the image.

"Oh, no," Prentiss shook her head slowly.

On the screen FBI Special Agent Emily Prentiss was standing at the bar in a bright red suit jacket with big buttons, a black skirt and heels. Her hair was gathered in an all too familiar up-do and she was wearing stylish glasses with square lenses.

Prentiss finally looked at the screen. She sighed and looked at Garcia. "This can't be traced to us, right?"

"No way, Miz Governor. I'm routing it through a server at the Department of Agriculture. All it would ever look like was some poor shmuck at some terminal somewhere was looking at really bad porn."

"Can you …" Prentiss flicked a hand at the screen. She risked a glance at JJ who was watching her with a half grin of amusement.

"This must be Uniform Night," Reid was saying as Garcia brought up another video on the screen.

The setting was a different bar and there appeared to be almost fifty women this time in various military uniforms as well as anything else that could possibly be considered a uniform. To one side Carballo walked by wearing a fireman's helmet and suspenders talking to an attractive woman in a maid's outfit.

"Oh, my, my," Garcia said zooming in on a figure on the screen again. Knowing what was there, Prentiss found she watching JJ.

JJ's eyes were on the screen as Garcia zoomed in and enhanced on Prentiss in military garb. This time she was wearing combat boots, camouflage pants, a tight olive green sleeveless T-Shirt and army webbing. At her belt was a canteen and holster and attached to the webbing on her chest were several fake grenades. Her long hair was hidden under a peaked green cap with sergeant's strips on the front. She was leaning on the bar talking to a blonde woman dressed in hospital scrubs her posture all lanky confidence.

When JJ pulled her eyes off the screen, she looked at Prentiss with that same look she had yesterday when they met at the pub. "God …" was all she could say as she sighed deeply.

"I could retire a rich girl on the beach in Mexico if I sold this picture to just a few people at the FBI," Garcia whispered.

"I'd shoot you first," Prentiss growled.

"Wow," Reid was still riveted to the screen. "The definition in your arms … have you been working out?"

The three women all looked at him. "What?" he asked surprised. "I can't look? You guys are!"

Garcia got up, walked over to him and kissed him on the forehead. "That's what I love about you Reid."

"Did you know about the video? That someone was taping the events?" JJ asked serious again.

"No, I didn't," Prentiss didn't hide her displeasure.

"Then the unsub probably won't have either," Reid stated the obvious.

**Chapter 13: Exposed**

Garcia downloaded all of The Venue files from the server and covered her trail. Together they sorted the video files into three separate groupings representing the last three Venue events. The video files were snippets of the events. Some were wide angle static shots of the setting; others appeared to be from a participant's point of view as if someone was wearing a hidden camera.

They started by locating CM Wilkinson. This wasn't difficult as the young woman in the sailor's suit moved around the room interacting with many different women. Near the end of the last video clip, Wilkinson was off to the side talking to a tall woman in Marine dress uniform. Their posture was intimate almost sexual. The video clip cutoff before it could be determined if they left together.

"Let's start with her," Prentiss stared at the screen trying to remember if she had noticed or talked to the woman that night.

"I'm all over it, Sarge." Garcia reversed the video and found the best image available of the tall Marine. She was standing near the corner of the bar – not far from Prentiss – her face turned slightly away and her hand resting casually on a ceremonial sword at her waist.

"I've got my own little facial recognition app I've been working on," Garcia moved the image to the side and the familiar connecting lines and dots appeared on the woman's face. "This should let us find her more easily in the other clips."

In the previous event – the one Reid had dubbed 'Sarah Palin Night' – Garcia quickly found the possible unsub. As the camera moved around the room she was seen standing near a wall her eyes on another woman whose back was to the camera. As the video progressed, she walked over to the woman she had been watching and the two were lost from view.

"Is that Amanda Reyes?" JJ asked.

"I think so," Prentiss replied.

"Interesting," commented Reid. "George Washington. Did you notice the sword again?"

The last event – famous historical figures, Prentiss explained -- was only sparsely covered by video clips. Prentiss was thankful there was only a glimpse of her as Amelia Earhart. The woman they had pegged as their unsub was dressed as a civil war officer and once again there was a sword at her waist. Nowhere in the clips could she be found talking to anyone.

Garcia brought up each of the three pictures on the screen the facial recognition app flashing the words "Positive Match" at the bottom.

"I can't say as I really remember her," Prentiss stood looking at the screen. "I wonder if…"

She pulled her iPhone from her pocket and dialed the number for the disposable cell she had given Detective Carballo. When Carballo answered, she hit speakerphone and set the device on the coffee table.

"Hola, mija. Como estas?"

"Que pasa, jefa? Donde has estado?"

Prentiss cut her off switching to English. "You're on speakerphone with some of my colleagues from the BAU."

"Mierda! You gonna figure this out without me, Nancy fucking Drew?" Carballo's tone was harsh.

"I'm sorry, mija. We just started working it and it seemed to come together." Prentiss continued when the detective only grunted. "Tee-Lo, do you remember a woman from The Venue, tall, early thirties, always in a uniform of some sort with a sword?"

"Fucking George Washington!"

"Yeah, that's her. Was she at any of the bars the night you were hit?" Prentiss leaned closer to the phone in anticipation.

The cell phone crackled as if the woman on the other end was moving around. There were several audible breaths then, "Yeah, I think so."

"She's tall," Carballo continued "Like your height. Always off to the side, out of the action, always watching." The detective paused as if trying to recall further details.

"Anything else that can help us identify her?" Reid asked.

"Reddish blonde hair," Carballo continued, "really nice build, like an athlete; hot if you like butch. Sorry, dude," she added for Reid. "Ya know, I always got the sense she was military; something about how she carried herself."

"Thanks, mija."

"De nada, jefa," Carballo paused. "You can't take this to the cops or the feds, Prentiss," her voice was firm.

"I'm not going to."

**Later**

JJ caught up to Prentiss in the hall outside the downstairs powder room. "How are you doing, Em?" she asked, her tone concerned. When Prentiss didn't answer just pulled on the tie of her sweatpants knotting it tightly, JJ continued. "I know you never wanted them to see all that about you."

"It doesn't matter, JJ," she leaned against the wall close to the shorter woman. "I am who I am. I'm not ashamed."

"I know that. You just need to get it through your thick skull that it doesn't bother me," JJ ran her fingers up Prentiss's arm turning her hand so her knuckles grazed bicep. "What you don't seem to understand is that maybe what you need isn't a weaker woman you can try to dominate, but a woman that knows herself enough to want to play your game when it suits her, and be your equal the rest of the time."

Prentiss stared down at JJ for a long moment her expression unreadable, then, without a word, she returned to the living room.

Garcia was busy on her laptop humming to herself as she worked and Reid sat with a thoughtful expression on his face. When Prentiss sat down beside him he turned toward her, cleared his throat, and spoke tentatively. "Ummm … I'm really quite fascinated in the dichotomy of gender roles you, I mean, the women at The Venue …" he stopped unable to continue.

"It's just girls playing dress up, Reid," she got up and went to the liquor cabinet. "Anyone else need a drink?"

When Prentiss returned she had a scotch for herself, gin for JJ and white wine for Garcia. She plunked an unasked for can of Coke in front of Reid.

"It's gender bending, Reid," JJ said her eyes going from Reid to Prentiss. "Bringing out another part of yourself. In a setting like The Venue it's meant to be provocative."

"Sexually provocative, actually," Prentiss stopped JJ from continuing. "It's easy for me – natural for me -- because it's not about being masculine or feminine it's just about being me."

Reid gazed at her for a long moment not realizing both Garcia and JJ were watching them closely. "I always thought you had a tremendous amount of self confidence. I suspect that's why they," his eyes went to the screen then back to Prentiss, "find you so attractive."

"Oh, Reid," Garcia warned. "Don't go there."

Prentiss sat back, laughing softly her eyes finding JJ.

Reid seemed to want to say several things his face shifting to a frown. "I'm not profiling," he finally stated. "In fact, I think my Emily Prentiss profile went out the window and is currently sailing over the Capitol Dome as we speak."

Several minutes passed in silence until broken by Garcia. "I think I've got her!" she said, excited. "JJ, Emily, while you were in the bathroom Reid and I came up with a possible way of tracking down our unsub."

"I suggested to Garcia she cross reference military records with women who are, or have been, in competitive fencing," Reid explained. "There was something about how she carried that sword. It was like it was natural not a costume affectation."

"On screen, Data," Garcia said to herself as new images appeared on the big LCD. To one side was a military record and on the other a picture of a woman in fencing garb.

"Shit! That's her," Prentiss was off the couch and in front of the screen energized. "Garcia, check the members list," she ordered with a warning in her voice.

Garcia brought up The Venue members file scrolling rapidly through the alphabetical list. "She's there," her cursor stopped on a name. When Prentiss gave a sharp gesture, Garcia minimized the list.

Everyone was still for a moment looking at the now familiar face. JJ went to where Garcia sat at the laptop and the bigger woman moved over so they could sit together on the ottoman.

"Tegan Elizabeth Grafton," JJ began assuming her usual role at the BAU. "United States Marine, age thirty one. She's a graduate of the Naval Academy, Olympic level fencer, service in Iraq and Afghanistan."

"Oh, dear," Garcia brought up another file. "She's being kicked out on 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'. I think she told."

"When?" Reid asked eagerly. "That could be the stressor."

"Six weeks ago."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Prentiss swore bitterly stalking to the liquor cabinet and pouring more scotch. The amber liquid sloshed out of her glass her hand was shaking so badly in anger.

"Emily!" JJ stood surprised and concerned. She took half a step toward Prentiss, stopped.

"I'm alright," Prentiss said tightly. She downed half the glass as she returned to stand near the screen her face dark, glowering. "How do you go from that – someone who had everything going for them -- to someone who kills women? Your own people!" The last was a statement, not a question, and it was full of malice.

"It's perfectly logical," Reid began. "She's losing the life she worked hard to build because she outed herself. She's taking it out on women who are closeted. Women in powerful positions who represent the government she probably now despises for betraying her." He paused, looked thoughtful before adding, "I bet if you asked her she's not the least ashamed of being gay, of being who she is." He looked at Prentiss sympathetically.

JJ went to her; put an arm around her waist. "Emily, you're not her. You wouldn't do something like this."

Prentiss just tossed her head, still angry. "I know. She made her choices. Now it's up to me to stop her."


	4. Part IV Final

**Chapter 14: For Your Entertainment**

**Late Saturday Night, 4 days ago**

It had taken a long time to work out a plan. In the end Garcia, oddly enough, had won out.

They had entered The Venue through a heavy door off a back alley. Once in the big main room, Garcia looked around excitement shining in her eyes. "Is that Condoleezza Rice?"

"Garcia!" Prentiss spoke in her ear. "Behave!" She was leaning slightly over the other woman while still letting her gaze roam around the room looking for a specific familiar face.

"Oh, I love this song!" Garcia began to sing along to the music as they crossed the floor toward the bar. _"Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do? 'Cause it's about to get rough for you …"_

Prentiss had spotted someone she hadn't expected. She guided Garcia to the end of the bar. "Hijo de puta! What are you doing here, mija?"

Garcia settled in a seat at the bar. "Detective Carballo, or should I saw Wolverine," she smiled at the woman beside her who was sporting mutton chops and heavily gelled hair.

"You have me at a disadvantage, chica," Carballo said all charm as she shot a look past Garcia to Prentiss.

"Penelope Garcia," she extended a white gloved hand. "Tonight I'm ..."

"Mary Poppins," Carballo finished kissing the knuckles of the offered hand.

"You certainly are a spoonful of sugar," Garcia smiled smitten.

"Garcia? Hablas espanol?"

"Unfortunately not."

"No problemo, chica. I can teach you," Carballo's look said another language wasn't all she had in mind.

"Easy, muchacha," Prentiss laid a warning hand on Carballo's shoulder. "I didn't think you were going to make it."

Carballo's cast was hidden under the sleeve of her black shirt and she had covered the worst of the bruising on her forehead with makeup. To Prentiss she still looked tired.

"Too important to miss," Carballo shrugged. "Nice whip, Indy. Yer gonna get a lot of attention with that."

Prentiss dropped her hand to the coiled leather whip at her belt, gave the detective a look that was a combination of indulgence and pure sexuality. She hooked her thumb through the loose belt that held the holstered revolver on one side and the whip on the other. Her eyes roamed the room skipping over the appreciative glances sent her way.

"She's not here yet, jefa."

"I see that," Prentiss caught the eye of the bartender, ordered a scotch for herself and wine for Garcia. The bartender gave Prentiss a long look as she returned with their drinks and second rum for Carballo.

"I hope you're not with her, chica," Carballo whispered to Garcia. "Here, she belongs to everyone."

"I'm beginning to see that," Garcia whispered back.

"Are you packing?" Carballo leaned past Garcia, looked at Prentiss.

Prentiss leaned on the bar her upper body close to, if not protectively around, Garcia. She drew the big revolver from the holster at her belt, "if you mean am I armed… " She let Carballo briefly admire the .45 caliber Colt that had belonged to her grandfather before replacing it. "I have this and a .380 auto on my ankle. You?"

"I've got a nine mil, back of my pants."

Garcia looked from one to the other. "Girls and their guns; I'm not sure if I'm supposed feel protected or turned on."

"So, what's the plan, Indy?"

Prentiss pushed the fedora farther back on her head and leaned even closer to Carballo. "I'm wearing a wire and there are two more friends outside listening. When she gets here," she shot another glance around the room, "I'm going to get close to her see if she's interested in me."

Carballo gave her a look that said that part of the plan was a given. "You can't use anything she says, you know that."

"I know. All I want is to get a little more evidence and let your _colleagues_," the emphasis on the word was not complimentary, "do the rest."

Less than a half hour had passed when Prentiss noted Garcia's posture stiffen. "Don't stare at her, Garcia," Prentiss warned turning away from the bar.

"Be cool," Carballo caught Garcia's hand. "Make like you're all into me. The boss has got this," she leaned in close to Garcia her eyes keen.

Prentiss let her gaze lazily take in the woman who had just entered. She was dressed in chainmail over a dark shirt with dark leather pants and boots. At her waist was a long knife in a heavy scabbard. Her hair was just beyond shoulder length worn loose and disheveled as if she has just come in out of a stiff wind.

"I think Middle Earth exploded in her closet," Garcia whispered. She raised her hand still holding onto Carballo and spoke into the transmitter in her sleeve. "Unsub is here, guys. It's about to get rough in here for someone …"

Although her back was now to Prentiss she could see the FBI agent in the mirror behind the bar. Prentiss was leaning back one elbow on the bar her other hand had her thumb hooked through her belt again pulling it down so it rested more over her hips than her waist.

In a lazy, half-interested way, Prentiss watched as the unsub approached the bar and ordered a drink. With a beer bottle in hand, she then walked directly past Prentiss her eyes catching and holding the other woman as she went by. Taking up a position with her back against the wall about twenty feet away, she looked around the room her eyes slightly nervous as if she was fully aware of Prentiss watching her.

Prentiss moved her other hand down, hooked her other thumb in her belt, her hands held provocatively low. She watched the other woman, sometimes looking away, sometimes letting a half smile cross her mouth.

A few long minutes went by as Prentiss waited patiently. If they were right about the profile and the unsub was targeting women in high level government jobs, she certainly could be a target. She had made her intentions clear now she would have to either wait until the unsub approached her or take action herself. Either way something would have to give soon as a woman dressed in black vinyl like Trinity from "The Matrix" was watching her with interest.

_Any other night …_ Prentiss thought taking the bold step of removing her hat and shaking out her hair like a model in a shampoo commercial. That did it; that and the woman in black vinyl taking a half step toward her. Prentiss dropped her hat on the bar next to Garcia as the unsub pressed in between them.

"You like playing at being butch?" Grafton said with an edge to her voice. She looked Prentiss up and down her eyes pausing at the whip.

"It depends on what mood I'm in," Prentiss replied her voice low and seductive. She met the younger woman's eyes trying to analyze her while still staying in character. Up close Grafton, the unsub, was intense, almost aggressive, her blue eyes sharp with a powerful confidence.

Prentiss turned toward her shifting her body so the whip was more prominently positioned on her hip between them. Grafton took the bait, reaching out to caress it lightly.

"I hear you like it rough," Grafton let her hand rest on Prentiss's hip, closed the distance between them.

Although that wasn't exactly true, Prentiss cocked her head slightly letting a smile play across her lips. "Where did you hear that?"

"Around," Grafton let her eyes play across the room briefly. Her hand moved upward, fingers splayed, to rest just below Prentiss' left breast as she moved even closer, their thighs now touching. "I also hear you are FBI; serial killer profiler."

Prentiss breathed very slowly not letting any reaction leach into her face or body. She was not used to playing this role and knew she would have to turn things around soon or lose any chance at getting information from the unsub.

"That's work," Prentiss reached out with her hand and ran her fingers suggestively up and down the knife on Grafton's belt. "This is different. This is play time."

Her face only inches away, Grafton moved her hand lightly across Prentiss' breast to the open neck of her shirt. Slowly she opened another button. Leaning forward she breathed in her ear, "Do they know who you are at the BAU?"

Prentiss pulled back just slightly her nose grazing the other's cheek until their eyes met. This would be a turning point she knew. "It's none of their concern," she held Grafton's eyes locked on hers. "I'm not out to them."

The blue eyes narrowed slightly her pupils seeming to focus even more intently. Her jaw tightened and her mouth flattened in a look that was part annoyance, and for a bare second, part pure hatred. Grafton then smiled to cover her reaction.

Prentiss broke eye contact looking toward the doorway to the back room. "Why don't we get some privacy?" She let Grafton lead the way moving after her without a glance to Garcia or Carballo.

Garcia watched them disappear concerned. "Where are they going?"

"Back room," Carballo shifted off her stool as if to go after them, but changed her mind.

"Back room?" Garcia pressed. "Like, as in, back room at the club on Queer as Folk?"

"Yeah, chica, like that. We gotta let her play it out. Anything we do now is gonna mess it up."

There were several other couples already in the dark room when Prentiss and Grafton entered. Grafton led the two of them to a far corner just to the left of another doorway.

The overt sexuality of the room, and the look in Grafton's eyes when she had heard Prentiss admit to being closeted, was working to provoke something in the tall dark haired agent. When Grafton stopped and turned toward her, Prentiss let it take over.

She threw her body against the other woman pushing her back hard against the wall pressing one hand against her belly just under the chainmail. "What do you care what I am to everyone else?" she lowered her hand down the leather pants at the same time as she ran her mouth along the other woman's jaw letting her feel her bared teeth. "I'm this to you. Isn't that all you want?"

The body under her seemed to lose tension as Prentiss softly kissed the exposed neck and throat one hand between them the other clutching at hip then buttock encased in the tight leather.

Grafton breathed out against her ear, "Don't fear what you are, Agent. Absorb it." She moved against Prentiss' hand letting herself be touched directly. "Let it take you."

Prentiss pressed her lower body harder against the other woman, the heel of her own hand finding an equally sensitive spot on her own body. She pulled back, stared for a moment into the intense blue eyes, and then let her mouth find the other with uncontained hunger.

Prentiss felt the other woman's hand insinuate between them and grab at her belt. There was a moment of awkward fumbling until she felt the belt give way and the holstered revolver and whip drop to the floor.

Right in that moment she realized her mistake.

Grafton broke the kiss her hand between them now holding the cold steel of her knife. She pressed it hard to Prentiss' chest cutting away another button of her shirt as she pushed the tip against the base of her throat. Her other hand was under Prentiss' shirt at the back reaching until she found the concealed wire. She yanked it off; dropped it to the side.

"Do they know what you are? How close you are to being what you study?"

In a car on the street outside, JJ jerked off her headphones. "Something's wrong." It wasn't just the squeal as the audio feed cut off that alerted her, but the sound of a sharp intake of breath from Prentiss just before.

JJ was out of the car and running down the alley Reid following behind her as Garcia's excited voice began shouting in her earphone.

"We're in the back room. We got worried. They're not here."

JJ heard the Latina detective curse loudly in the background just as she skidded to a stop in the empty alley.

"Garcia, where are they?" JJ could not help the edge of panic that had crept into her voice.

"We don't know. We don't know," the analyst stuttered. "Wait, there's a door. Alley, they're in the alley!"

JJ looked around at the bare brick walls and heavy gate that blocked any further passage. Holding her Glock in a two handed grip she swiveled around feeling Reid doing the same at her back as they covered every available hiding spot in the empty alley.

They came to a stop back to back turning to look at each other. "The other side!" Reid said comprehension coming into his eyes.

Carballo was fumbling to pull her weapon from her waist band with her good hand as she ran down the alley. Rounding a corner, she was met with a stiff kick that sent her head first into a dumpster. Her weapon flew from her grasp as she collapsed stunned.

Prentiss attempted to use the distraction to her advantage. She twisted away from the knife at her throat ducking down and grappling at the other woman's midsection. Grafton jammed a knee under her jaw snapping her teeth sharply together.

Trying to stand up and pull away, Prentiss was then hit by a roundhouse kick under her right arm that sent a shocking wave of pain through her torso. She stumbled backward as Grafton advanced on her flicking the knife as her feet danced in the moves of a practiced fencer.

"C'mon, agent, get up," she taunted. "Make a fight of it!"

"Like those other women?" Prentiss hissed through clenched teeth.

"No, not like them; you're not like them at all," with her left hand she grabbed the front of Prentiss' shirt and almost idly flung her against a parked car. Her shoulder on her already injured side hit the front corner of the car causing her entire right arm to go numb.

Grafton pulled her up and pressed her bodily onto the hood of the car. "A few pills forced down an unwilling throat," she flicked the knife tip across Prentiss' cheek and jaw. "A little extra push in the back to an inebriated girl …"

Prentiss tried to block the knife, but her left hand was caught in a strong grip and pinned above her head. "How do you feel now …" the other woman pressed her body hard against her crushing her to the car, "now that you're not on top?"

"Did you get tired of trying to cover up your kills? Want more recognition?"

The knife went still under her chin and the sharp blue eyes looked down at her with interest. "Maybe I just got tired of playing this stupid game."

Prentiss breathed out holding tight to her self control reaching inward trying to find some extra strength to hold out long enough for JJ and Reid to find her. She hoped that Garcia had run to meet them, lead them to her.

The knife moved across her chest and the tip began to dig into her skin just to the left of her breastbone. Gasping, Prentiss jerked her body freeing her left hand. She caught at the wrist of the hand pressing the knife into her, but the pressure was doubled as the woman above pushed with two hands.

"I put myself out there being who I am and people like you just skate along getting the best of both worlds," Grafton said calmly pushing down on the knife seemingly with little effort as it sank deeper. "You're straight to the world but gay in bed. If you would just be who you are, all of you women who live just like them, they wouldn't think we were so bad."

"Damn you!" was all the response Prentiss could muster. Just as she thought the hateful blue eyes of the woman above her, a woman who was not so far removed from her in life save for the choices she had made, would be the last thing she would see, Grafton's body went rigid. Her grasp on the knife was released and she fell backward bucking as electricity coursed through her.

"What do you mean not so bad?" Garcia said holding her open carpetbag in one hand and a stun gun in the other. Prentiss slid slowly down the car to the ground. "Not so bad! You were killing her!"

Abruptly Garcia dropped the bag and stun gun. She stepped over the still body and knelt by Prentiss. She was pulling a handkerchief from her coat pocket when JJ and Reid appeared in the alley.

Reid stopped to help up the groggy Carballo as JJ went to Prentiss. "Emily, God …" was all she could say her eyes on the blood covering Prentiss' chest. She took the handkerchief from Garcia, pressed it to the bleeding wound.

With a screech of tires, and a blare of lights, a car rocketed into the alley. Two DC detectives, the two who had met Prentiss at her door, jumped out, weapons drawn.

"FBI! We're FBI," Reid held up his credentials.

"It's OK," Carballo took a step away from Reid toward the detectives. "We got yer killer," she pointed not at Grafton moving slowly as she regained consciousness, but Prentiss who sat wounded with the long bladed knife between her knees.

"No!" JJ moved to block Prentiss from the detectives as they moved forward slowly, weapons pointed at the FBI agent.

No one except Garcia saw Grafton roll slowly to her right, grab something from the ground. Garcia gasped as she pushed herself up on one knee, Carballo's nine millimeter pistol in her hand.

"Gun!" the shout from Reid caused every weapon to swivel to the woman on the ground.

"It wasn't her! It was me!" Grafton reached under her shirt and slowly withdrew a cell phone. "There's pictures," she tossed the cell several feet towards the detectives. Carballo moved forward, scooped it up.

"Least you can do is get it right," she put the handgun under her chin, pulled the trigger.

**Later**

"I don't know whether to be pissed at you or impressed mija." Prentiss was being loaded into the ambulance, JJ at her side.

"Either, it's all good, jefa." Carballo smiled slyly. "I had to get her to talk somehow. Wish I'd known about the phone though." She looked to the yellow tarp covering the body. "It might not have come to that."

"I don't think it was going to end any other way," JJ stepped back as the stretcher was pushed into the ambulance and the doors shut.

**Chapter 15: Coming Out**

**Early Afternoon Monday, 2 days ago**

JJ met them as Garcia and Prentiss go off the elevator and walked into the bullpen at the BAU. "Are you ready for this?" she touched Prentiss' elbow lightly where it rested in the sling.

"I don't know," Prentiss let out a deep breath, began walking up the steps to the conference room. The four men on the team were waiting their faces expectant and concerned. On the table were her credentials, service weapon and ID passes.

Reid hopped up to help her into a chair but Prentiss stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I'll stand for now, thanks." She looked around the room at her colleagues, her friends. For a moment she thought of detailing to them her injuries – three cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder, the stab wound in her chest – but stopped herself sure they already knew.

She looked at Hotchner, Rossi and Morgan, began slowly. "There's something you need to know about me; something I never told you, something important." Her eyes wandered around the room settled again on the faces in front of her.

"I believe everyone has the right to live their lives as they want to and to keep private what they want to keep private. Sometimes though, it's not that simple. Others look to us for an example and if we can't admit to being who we are, we make it harder for those who come after us to be who they are."

"I've never been ashamed to be a lesbian, but I've never been out. I kept that part of me hidden away from the most important people in my life and I regret that now. This is who I am and I hope you can find it in yourselves to accept me."

Hotchner was the first to approach her. His usually reticent face looked pained and Prentiss thought for a moment he was going to grab her in an uncharacteristic hug. Instead he touched her lightly with a hand on either shoulder.

"You earned your place here, Emily. Nothing about you could ever change that. You will always be part of this team no matter your private life."

Prentiss ducked her head mumbled a thank you and looked up as Rossi stood in front of her. The older man took her good hand and squeezed it tight. "I think you are the bravest girl," he paused, corrected himself, "Woman, I've ever known. You have to be stronger, stand taller, than any man here, and you do. It doesn't matter who you choose to love."

Rossi stepped aside and Morgan was there. He did hug her, gently, carefully. Pulling back to look at her, he grinned. "You go girl!" he touched her cheek. "I ditto what Rossi said. I've always got your back, always, you know that?" She nodded, smiled weakly.

Reid regarded her nervously, hands in his pockets. "You amaze me," he finally said meeting her eye. "And I don't think I've ever said that about anyone."

The men filed out of the conference room leaving Prentiss, Garcia and JJ alone. Garcia was wiping her eye with her knuckle. "That was sweet," she kissed Prentiss on the cheek grinned at her again. "Don't forget about Wednesday night, our girls' night in, my Sapphic sweetie," she turned and left.

JJ took Prentiss's hand, entwined their fingers. "C'mon, I'll help you write a quick report then drive you home."

**Chapter 16: A Million Miles Away**

**Present Day, Later in the Evening**

"Did you find a blanket and pillow for Garcia?" Prentiss sat on the edge of her bed, arranged a couple of pill bottles and a glass of water on the nightstand.

"Yeah," JJ smiled. "She's already snoring on the couch."

Prentiss swung her legs into bed and pushed her bare feet under the sheet. "What about you?" she asked looking up at JJ. "Are you going to pass out on me?"

"No, I'm OK," JJ turned away. "I guess I should go… call a cab…"

"Jennifer, wait," Prentiss reached out but the other woman was beyond her grasp. "Please stay. We need to talk about this. We need to talk about us."

JJ turned and for a moment the look in her eyes said that was the last thing she wanted.

Prentiss pulled her knees up and JJ sat at her feet. JJ looked away, several things going through her mind. Finally she settled on one. "I keep thinking about you in that bar," her hand touched Prentiss' knee. "One part of me wanted to be there; see you doing your thing and all those women wanting to be with you. The other part of me just doesn't want to know 'cause I'm jealous, I guess."

Prentiss couldn't think of anything to say and after a moment, JJ continued. "Tell me what it feels like to you when you…" she broke off unable to put the words together.

"I feel very powerful, very intensely aroused. It's dark, scary. I know that sometimes I can't totally control it. That's why I don't think we should …"

"Emily, the only one that's afraid of you, is you," JJ caught Prentiss' eyes with her own; didn't let her look away. "You think that I can't make a choice; to accept you or not; to accept myself or not; to want you – all of you – or not."

JJ looked away for a long moment trying to compose her jumbled thoughts. "I can admit to myself that your power, your strength, makes me want to melt into you, become part of you. That it arouses me more than I ever imagined I could feel with someone." She shook her head slightly, said softly, "I've never felt that way with anyone but you."

"I know you…"

"What you don't know about yourself," JJ let her words drown out the other woman, "is that you can be warm and loving. You embrace the powerful, dark part of yourself but not the tender, giving part. You're more afraid that you can feel love, want love, _be loved_, than anything else."

Prentiss felt her jaw go limp, felt her mouth drop open in surprise. She gulped, made as if to get out of bed, get away. Pain shot into her shoulder when she tried to push herself up with her right arm. Then JJ was there beside her, arms going around her and she felt herself enveloped in warmth, surrounded by compassion, kindness.

"With all the things we see every day, all the cruelty, how can you exist without this?" JJ whispered. "You put all those horrible things away in your compartments and forget to be human. You put away the love as a consequence, you shouldn't."

Prentiss felt the tears starting in her eyes and was oddly pleased that JJ could not see because she never wanted anyone so see her cry. Her face was pressed to JJ's chest, the top of her head tucked under the other woman's chin. For a long time she let JJ hold her feeling her strength pour in, calming her, soothing her.

Finally JJ pulled back from the embrace her hand gently smoothing back Prentiss' hair, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I wish I could be someone else or I could go back and do it all again," when Prentiss said the words, JJ looked up startled. "There's so much against us; everything is so complicated. I wish it could be simple; that I could love you and everything would be perfect." She felt pain come into her chest felt the weight of what she couldn't have. "You're right here, but you're a million miles away. Separated by our job, by my inability to think that I can love, by…"

"By my choices," JJ was crying now, tears running down her cheeks. "God, Emily, there's so much I regret. I wish I had never…"

Prentiss caught her hand, held it fiercely. "I know. I wish we had never come this far; not like this. It's not your fault," she added sharply when JJ looked away. "I wish that three years ago I had been able to imagine I could love you -- not just desire you. Now here we are."

JJ wiped her face, drew in a deep breath. She looked at the woman in front of her let all the emotions tumble through her. When everything sifted through she was left with one thing and it almost surprised her, almost.

JJ caught Prentiss' hand, drew it to her lips and kissed her fingers delicately. She let her eyes roam the other woman's face seeing the recognition of her desire there.

"Right in this moment, I want nothing more than to make love with you like we did that night in Buffalo."

"I know," Prentiss felt her own need surface. She could see the sensuality she felt reflected in JJ's eyes. "It would just be kind of difficult right now what with me being half dead and all," she grinned playfully.

JJ smiled, kissed her hand again, and got up.

"Don't go Jennifer, stay here with me."

"I'm not going anywhere," JJ unbuttoned her jeans; let them drop to the floor. Next she pulled off her shirt and bra, walked around the other side of the bed and slipped in under the sheet. She moved close to Prentiss just touching her shoulder.

"Tomorrow is tomorrow; right now I'm here."

**Oh I can feel you, I can hear you,  
I can see you in your room  
Oh I can kiss you, I can taste your mouth - I can nearly touch your face  
Oh how I miss you, How I miss you  
How I long for your embrace, From a million miles away**

**- A Million Miles Away – Jann Arden**


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